


All We Have Is Now (Part One)

by Reis_Asher



Series: Ownership [17]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, D/s, Dom/sub, Edging, Filming, Hand Jobs, Hannor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Sub Connor, background 900gavin, hank/connor, hankcon - Freeform, lots of feelings in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 14:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Connor starts shutting down randomly. Hank insists he sees an android technician, and Markus suggests a friend. But the diagnosis isn't good - Connor needs a custom chip, and he can only get one from another RK model. With CyberLife out of business, the odds of Connor getting a new mind palace regulator before he shuts down permanently are slim.Determined to enjoy the time they have left, Hank tells Connor he can have anything he wants, and Connor makes a proposal Hank never expected. Hank starts to film their lovemaking sessions, desperate to preserve whatever he can of Connor while they still have time together.When Hank gets an e-mail from Nines, stating he wants to discuss an important matter, he is reluctant to meet up with the android partially responsible for Chris's death, but Connor wants to hear him out.





	All We Have Is Now (Part One)

**Author's Note:**

> Ownership is getting close to a place where I'm going to wrap things up into a satisfying conclusion so I can take a break to write the gigantic list of one-shots I want to work on. 
> 
> I had to split this part into two as it was getting too large and unwieldy to work on. I promise the conclusion to this part will be up soon!

Connor stood at the sink, scrubbing the dirty dishes left over from Hank’s recent meal. He smiled as Hank slipped his arms around his waist, leaning into his comforting embrace. Hank kissed his neck, and Connor rolled his head to the side to expose more of it, growing aroused as Hank sucked at his throat, his breaths growing ragged.

A warning flashed before his eyes, and before Connor could warn Hank, he shut down.

***

“Connor!” Hank yelled as Connor rebooted, his audio processors initializing before he could move, see or speak. He was relieved when he could finally talk, desperate to reach Hank.

“Hank! Hank, what happened?” Connor's vision and other functions finished rebooting, and he realized he was knelt on the kitchen floor, slumped where they'd been standing just a moment ago.

“You shut down again. Just... stopped.” Hank pulled him close, and Connor noted that Hank's heart was racing, his blood pressure well above healthy levels.

“Please do not be alarmed, Lieutenant. These shutdowns seem to be harmless. I may need some routine maintenance, but I assure you there’s nothing to worry about.” Connor tried to stand, but Hank kept his grip on him, forcing him to stay on his knees.

“Like hell you’re all right! That’s it, I’m callin’ Kamski. You need a checkup.”

“There’s no need for that," Connor said. "I’m sure any certified repair technician will be sufficient."

“You’re a prototype. Excuse me if I don’t trust some kid fresh outta college to be pokin' around inside you.” Hank grabbed his phone, standing next to where Connor knelt and brushing his hands through Connor’s hair like it was spun gold. The sensors in Connor’s scalp lit up, and he enjoyed the reassurance.

It was terrifying, plunging into darkness. He didn’t know how humans slept like they did. He was used to some part of him always being aware. When he shut down, it was like everything stopped, and he woke to find minutes or hours had passed with no record of it. Like he was losing time, the world going on without him. A hundred years could pass and he’d be unaware, only to wake and find Hank was gone.

Hank planted a kiss on Connor’s forehead as hold music played on the phone, and he was glad to be welcomed back into the present, the warm sunshine of Hank’s love pushing back the dark clouds that loomed in his thoughts.

“Yeah. I’d like to speak to Mr. Kamski, please... It’s Lieutenant Anderson. Yeah, it’s about Connor.” A pause. “He’s out of the country? Well is there any way I can reach him?” Hank sighed, and Connor guessed not. “Well, thanks anyway, honey.” Hank ended the call and put his cellphone down. “Kamski's outta the country for three fuckin' weeks. Some spiritual retreat bullshit, off the grid.”

Connor sat up sharply as he realized how late it was and how much time he'd lost. “Lieutenant, we need to go to the station. We cannot afford to be late again. We still need to file those reports on the—”

“Fuck that,” Hank snapped. “You’re _shutting down_ , Connor. I can’t just ignore that and pretend everythin' is normal!”

“My diagnostic reports show my functions are operating within normal parameters. My speculation is that the shutdowns could be a reaction to my heightened emotional state."

“Well that’s kind of a problem, since our entire lives seem to be spent in a heightened emotional state. What if you shut down in the middle of a case? While chasing a suspect? You could be killed. There’s only one of you now, Connor. I can’t lose you.”

“Perhaps I will contact Markus,” Connor suggested. “Other deviants at Jericho might have suffered the same problem. However, in the meantime, I would like to work. As I stated before, these shutdowns are unpleasant. I would like to focus my attention on something productive while I wait for Markus to respond to my inquiry.”

“Okay, but you better put out that phone call, or I’ll be knocking down Markus’s door myself," Hank said. "That's an order, Connor, so don't try to weasel out of it."

"Yes, Lieutenant," Connor replied.

***

The sun had barely set when they pulled up to the repair clinic Markus had suggested. The address pointed them to a large house in downtown Detroit that would have been unremarkable in passing, with no signs to indicate that it was anything other than a private residence. Connor opened the gate and walked down a long path, ringing the doorbell with something akin to trepidation surging through him. Hank squeezed his shoulder gently as he waited for a few moments and rang the doorbell again. A middle-aged woman with long brown hair and an open, friendly face answered the door.

“You must be Connor,” the lady said, smiling broadly. “Come in. I haven’t had the pleasure of your friend’s name?”

“This is Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor explained. “He’s my partner.”

“Ah, I see.” The twinkle in her eyes told Connor she did see, but perhaps that was because Hank chose that moment to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “I'm Liza. Markus sent you, yes? Let's get right down to business.” She led Connor and Hank into an examination room and shut the door behind them. “You say you are shutting down at random intervals, Connor?” Liza walked around the room gathering equipment while she spoke with Connor. Hank looked around, his curious glance admitting that he had no idea what most of the equipment in the room was for but that he was trying to piece it together with his best detective instincts.

“That’s correct,” Connor confirmed. “At first I thought I had shut down due to a single instance of emotional overload, but it’s started happening more often.”

“Lay on the table for me, please," Liza instructed.

Connor climbed up onto the bare table and lay back. He caught Hank’s wince from the corner of his eye as Liza opened up a panel in his chest and started to look around inside.

“If you’re uncomfortable, Lieutenant, you can wait outside," Connor stated.

“I wanna be here for you,” Hank looked shamefaced as he said it. “I’m just not used to seein’ you like this, that’s all.” He focused his gaze on Connor’s head. “I don’t like hospitals. Seeing you all opened up...”

Connor reached up and grabbed Hank’s arm to stop him from feeling the need to finish the thought. “It’s okay,” Connor assured him. “You don’t have to stay. I understand.”

“I’m not waitin’ outside,” Hank insisted. “I’ll go crazy wondering what’s goin’ on in here.”

Liza closed the panel, looking at an array of monitors and drumming her fingers on the metal table. She moved up to the side of Connor’s head and opened a panel. Hank moved to allow her access and Liza attached multimeter probes to a circuit board inside Connor’s head.

“Oh,” she said. “It would seem you have a faulty mind palace regulator.” She bit her lip. “It’s a custom chip, I’m afraid. Every series has their own, and they're not cross-compatible. You would need a replacement processor from an RK-series model.”

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Hank asked, his voice more gravelly than usual.

“This chip is damaged. It’s only a matter of time before it fails, and when it does...” Liza closed her eyes. “You’re looking at permanent shutdown. This processor controls Connor’s mind palace, his internal sense of self. Without it, his neural network will be destroyed from the sheer amount of data he has to process on a daily basis.”

“Is it possible it was damaged when the Amanda program and the zen garden were erased?” Connor asked, more to Hank than to Liza. He quickly explained the situation to the tech. "Elijah Kamski did some emergency work on my mind palace. He had to erase some programs to stop CyberLife taking control of me."

“I don’t know enough about the RK series, but it is possible. Your zen garden is an important part of your mind palace. It is a place for you to gather your memories and place them in order. I would imagine that without it, your mind is becoming overloaded with data, causing these sudden shutdowns.”

“So we need to find another RK model,” Hank said, "and get this chip thingie.”

“It’s not that simple," Liza explained. "CyberLife never sold custom chips on the open market, and even so, with their bankruptcy, obtaining parts has become extremely difficult. Your best chance is to find an RK model that has been deactivated, but your odds are low. No RK model has ever gone beyond the prototype phase. There may be two dozen androids with a similar processor, and I can't guarantee that a chip from an older model would be one-hundred percent compatible.”

“If we take the chip from a living model, I assume they would shut down?” Hank asked.

“That is correct,” Liza confirmed. “I’m sorry.”

“How long do I have left?” Connor asked.

“Perhaps two, three weeks. You will begin to shut down more often as the processor fails. I wish I could do more to help, but my contacts in CyberLife have scattered since they declared bankruptcy.” Liza turned away, putting her multimeter down gently on the counter.

Connor sat up and looked at Hank. His expression had crumbled from determined but hopeful into absolute despair, and Connor’s heart shattered to see Hank so pained. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but he knew Hank was barely holding it together and one tiny motion might make him snap in public.

“We should go,” Connor said softly. “Thank you for your help, Liza. I have transferred the required funds to your account for the visit and associated costs.” Connor's LED blinked yellow and back to blue. He stood up, taking Hank's hand and leading him out into the hallway. Hank looked like a ghost, pale and lost as he stumbled through the front door and out to the car. He said nothing the whole way home.

Connor knew Hank would be hitting the whiskey as soon as they got back, and some piece of him resented that ever so slightly. He was scared. He wanted Hank’s support at a time like this, but he kept his silence as Hank went inside and slumped at the kitchen table. He reached for the whiskey Connor had given him, drinking straight from the bottle.

“You were my second chance,” Hank said. “I thought the universe was finally tryin' to give me something back after the heartache of losing Cole. But now I’m gonna lose you too. It’s not fair. Nothin' in this world is fuckin' just. Every little bit of hope is tempered with crushing sadness.” He slammed the bottle down on the table.

Connor sat down at the table opposite Hank. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling helpless. There was nothing he could do against Hank’s anger but ride out the storm and hope it didn’t destroy the last of their precious time together. He despised the fact that he could do nothing to ease Hank's pain, that he was the root cause of this agony.

“You don’t gotta be sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s just fucked up. You’ve not even spent a year in this world.” Hank buried his head in his hands. “I wish I could just rip all the remainin' years outta me and give them to you. I’ve lived too long and seen too much anyway. You've barely even started. There's so much you gotta see yet. I wanted to show you everything.”

“I want you to live,” Connor stated. “I love you, Hank. I think a piece of me was yours the moment I set eyes on you in Jimmy’s bar.”

“Don’t,” Hank warned. “I can’t do this right now, Connor. It hurts too much.”

“Lieutenant, I’m still here. I don’t want to waste the time we have left.” Tears welled in Connor's eyes and he let them fall, wondering why he was trying to hold them back in the first place. “You’re right that it’s not fair. But I’ve done more, seen more and felt more in a few months than some humans do in an entire lifetime. I’ve been fortunate compared to many other androids. I can’t bring myself to be angry about dying.”

“I keep thinkin’ about Kamski. Did he know this would happen when he erased Amanda from your mind?”

“I would have died if he hadn’t,” Connor pointed out. “There’s no value in looking at what might have been. All we have is now.” He reached across the table and took Hank’s hands in his.

“I should be comfortin’ you, not the other way around.” Hank pulled his hands out from underneath Connor’s and placed them on top, squeezing gently. “What d’ya wanna do, Connor? We can take some leave from the DPD and go on a trip if you want. Let me know what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

“I love working at the DPD,” Connor said. “I don’t want anything. I already have the perfect life. I'm so happy when I'm on my knees for you. I feel fulfilled."

Hank raised an eyebrow skeptically. “There’s nothin’ in this entire world that you want? Bullshit. Use your imagination. There has to be somethin’.”

“There is one thing,” Connor admitted. He stood up from the chair and knelt at Hank’s feet. He looked up at Hank, analyzing his features, and he smiled. He loved this man so much that he felt blessed just to be in his presence. CyberLife had made him to be Hank's ideal partner, perhaps, but what he felt went way beyond anything a programmer could have written into his code.

“Well, what is it?” Hank asked.

“It’s not my place to ask, Hank.”

“Don’t be cryptic, Connor. This ain’t the time.” Hank petted Connor’s hair. “I’m pretty sure you’ve earned the right to ask for anything you want. You've given me more than I ever could have hoped for."

“I want to marry you,” Connor said.

“That’s—it’s not legal yet.” Hank's eyes widened, and Connor knew he'd surprised him.

“Does it matter if the ceremony isn't legally binding? I want to stand in front of our friends and tell them how much I love you," Connor explained. "Everybody already knows, but I hate us being an open secret. I'm proud to be yours, Hank Anderson, and I want the world to know it." He touched the collar around his neck. It was enough for him to be content, but he'd always wanted to shout his love out loud. He just knew Hank would never be onboard with the idea. He wasn't one to make his personal and private business public, and Connor was a part of that, a relationship that he felt was nobody else's business but his and Connor's.

“You’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while," Hank said, running his finger over the rim of the whiskey bottle.

“I love being Connor Anderson. From time to time, I think about what it might be like to be your husband, instead of the world simply seeing me as your android cop partner. Not that I want to change the nature of our relationship—I always want to serve you—I just want to be open with the world about what we mean to one another. I sincerely doubt you would be interested, however, and I would like you to disregard the idea if it makes you uncomfortable. It's not something I want you to do because I want it. You have to wish for it as well. If you would rather keep us a secret, I will happily stay by your side until the end."

“You’re right, I think the concept of marriage is kinda bullshit,” Hank explained. “I did it once and I swore I'd never do it again when things went south. Still, I understand why you would want to get married. You’ve never had the chance.” He touched Connor’s cheek. “I don’t get why you’d wanna marry me, but fuck, I’m not gonna argue against it. Of course I’ll marry you, Connor.” Hank lifted Connor’s face and stared into his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead claimed Connor’s lips in a deep kiss. Connor slipped his arms around Hank’s waist, so happy to be close to the man he loved. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, freeze time so that it could never tick forward to shutdown, but despite all the things he was capable of, that one thing was impossible.

***

“Haaaank,” Connor begged, as Hank licked at his puckered hole. He was so hard, Hank hyper-focused on bringing him to the edge of orgasm and suspending him there. Hank ran his tongue up over his balls and ran it up the length of Connor’s shaft, eliciting another moan as Connor arched his back. His wrists were tied together and he struggled against his bonds, aching to touch himself and come.

Hank pulled out his cellphone and Connor realized he was filming. Saving this moment, capturing it for the time when there would be no more moments. Connor’s erection floundered a little, but Hank set down the cellphone on a shelf and took Connor in his mouth.

Connor forgot to be sad as his shaft was wrapped in velvet heat. He was fully erect again within moments, Hank giving him a treat he rarely got to experience.

Hank let Connor’s cock slip from his mouth and untied his bonds. He walked over to the shelf and picked up the phone. “Touch yourself for me, Connor,” he whispered, and Connor took himself in hand, happy to star in Hank’s private movie. He took his time, retracting the skin over his hand like he’d done before with Hank. He forgot the camera was there and concentrated on Hank’s blue eyes and the way his mouth was open slightly, revealing his goofy front teeth.

Hank was so perfect, and Connor belonged to him. It was hard to believe, even now. When he thought about how he’d approached Hank without the right words to express his secret desires, he knew it was a wonder that they’d ended up together at all. Somehow, Hank had been the perfect match for him, the missing piece that completed his life.

Nothing that good could last forever.

Connor focused on Hank’s arousal, the way his huge dick stood to attention. Soon he’d get the chance to please Hank, and he couldn't wait. Serving Hank's needs made him happier than anything in the world. Connor sped up his pace, keeping his gaze locked with Hank’s while simultaneously recalling all the incredible moments they’d shared.

“Hank! I’m so close!”

“Stop.”

Connor complied, gritting his teeth as he forced his program to comply and grabbed the bedsheets instead. Emotions overwhelmed him and he bit his lip to stifle a sob. It was too much, tonight.

Perhaps Hank saw the moisture in his eyes, because he sat down on the side of the bed and took Connor's cock in his hand. “It’s okay,” he soothed, holding the camera as steady as he could while he jerked Connor off. “Come for me.”

Connor keened, loving the attention Hank was paying him. He wanted to look good on camera, so Hank would always have the perfect video to look back on him with. His eyes lidded as he came all over his chest and Hank's hand with a sharp cry. Hank let go and slowly panned the phone camera up his body, capturing his face and his come-stained chest. Connor smiled, lavishing in Hank's attention.

Connor climbed off the bed and knelt on the floor, ready to serve Hank in any way he wanted. He looked up at Hank expectantly, trying to read the twinkle in Hank's eyes that spoke of horniness and sorrow in the same look.

“You’re so beautiful, Connor,” Hank whispered. “Perhaps I should let you go, take the collar off. There are so many things you should be doing in your last weeks instead of being on your knees for an old man like me. I should set you free."

“I’m already free,” Connor replied. “I want to be owned by you. I love serving you more than anything. Seeing you smile makes me feel fulfilled, like I've completed my mission.”

“Oh, Connor.” Hank pulled him up into a kiss. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve done something wrong, binding you to me like this.”

“I choose to be here," Connor pointed out. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. Tell me what you want me to do, Lieutenant. Let me please you."

Hank grinned. “Well then, I hate to be boring, but I really want to fuck you tonight. My dick aches just thinkin' about it.” Hank watched Connor with hungry eyes as he climbed up onto the bed and lay back, spreading his legs and pulling his cheeks apart to expose his hole. He was hard again already, so excited by the thought of Hank's cock inside him.

Hank set up the phone on the nightstand to record their fuck. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer and climbed back onto the bed.

“This could never be boring,” Connor gasped as Hank slid a slicked up finger inside him. “Not in a thousand lifetimes.” Hank followed with another, taking his time, his gaze watching Connor's every reaction. The words on the tip of Connor's tongue were corrupted into jargon as Hank pressed the head of his cock to Connor’s hole and pressed inside.

Connor gasped as Hank set a slow pace, thrusting in and out of him with long, hard strokes. Connor moaned into Hank’s mouth as he devoured him with wet, sloppy kisses and Connor delighted in having Hank like this, so much Hank around him and inside him, the man he lived for grunting as he slowly took his pleasure and gave back in equal measure. Hank's hand wrapped around Connor's dick, giving it lazy, tender strokes as he fucked Connor into the mattress.

Hank came with a final thrust and a low groan that drove Connor over the edge into bliss as he came into Hank’s waiting hand and slumped, boneless, onto the mattress. Hank grabbed a towel and cleaned up before pulling Connor into his arms.

“You okay, Connor?” The lines on Hank’s brow furrowed as he held Connor tighter than usual.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Connor clung to Hank like he might shut down at any moment, half expecting to with the sheer level of emotion flooding his circuits. He rested his head on Hank’s chest, soft chest hair caressing his cheek as he listened to Hank’s steady heart beat slowing back to normal. He synchronized his own thirium pump back up with it, wanting to be in time with Hank, needing to be as close as he could get.

“I love you so much,” Connor whispered, as if Hank might not know. He knew he could could say it a million times and it still not be enough to express the sheer volume and intensity of his love.

“I love you too, Connor,” Hank said, his voice thick and husky. Connor held on tightly, as if by clutching onto the man he loved he could somehow restore his broken processor and delay the inevitable forever.

***

Connor rebooted in the night. He returned to awareness and checked his internal chronometer. Five minutes had felt like forever. Was that what shutting down would be like, an empty void of absolute nothingness for him while the world moved on? Hank would grow older and there would be nothing left but the brief memory of Connor to ever say he’d been here. Hank would have other lovers, or maybe he'd grow old alone. Or maybe he wouldn't grow old at all. He might schedule a date with his gun after all, deciding the best parts of his life were on the other side.

Connor was as scared for Hank as he was for himself.

Hank stirred, his eyes flicking open at the sound of Connor's internals whirring back to life. He turned onto his side and gripped Connor’s forearm, looking into his face with searching, frightened eyes.

“It happened again, didn’t it?”

Connor wanted to say no, but Hank hadn’t become a police lieutenant by being oblivious. He knew, whether Connor lied about it or not, and he didn’t want to spend their last weeks together spinning a web of lies and arguing about it. Hank was a man who respected honesty, and Connor wasn’t going to betray his trust by lying now.

“Yes.” Connor leaned into Hank, comforted by the warmth of his body. “I’m scared, Hank.” Hank responded by pulling him closer, squeezing him so tightly it might have hurt if he was human. Hank planted kisses in his hair until his fears eased. The here and now was safe, even if the future was bleak.

***

Connor emerged from the bedroom, knotting his tie. He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on, feeling a comforting sense of normalcy, as if this was just another day in a long list of days they would spend together. 

Hank slouched in a kitchen chair wearing only a stained t-shirt and shorts. The whiskey bottle was empty. Connor knew Hank had gotten up early, but had pretended to run a diagnostic in order to give Hank a little personal space.

“We’re not going to work. I’ll talk to Fowler, set up medical leave or somethin’,” Hank groused. "Get undressed."

“I want to keep working. I love my job. It gives me a sense of purpose," Connor protested.

“We’ve got a weddin’ to plan, and I want to spend as much time with you as I can. I can work some other time,” Hank argued. “Homicides are the last thing on my mind right now.”

“You spent two hours this morning e-mailing android part vendors,” Connor pointed out. “You know they won’t have what I need. I already searched every online vendor and parts dealer, along with used ads, auction sites, and warehouse lots.”

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” Hank said. “I’m not gonna give up, roll over and accept this. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Someone’s gotta have a replacement chip. I'll buy it at any price.”

“Please come to work. At least for a few hours. I want to continue as normal for as long as I can.” Connor bowed his head. He hated making so many requests. He missed Hank calling all the shots, their needs being in concert so perfectly that Hank’s wishes were also his own. He wanted to be on his knees, but for once he couldn't find it in himself to submit.

“Okay, okay,” Hank said, standing up. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. Just give me five minutes to get ready.” He staggered into the bathroom, and Connor wondered if Hank was going to spend the last days of their life together drunk the whole time, only to regret it later.

***

“Hmm.” Hank looked up from his computer monitor. The bullpen buzzed around them, phones ringing off the hook while androids and humans alike filed police reports about minor crimes at the desks adjacent to theirs. “Now that’s curious. I got an e-mail from Nines. He wants to meet up with us.” Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Not sure what that fucker thinks he has to say, but I wanna hear your opinion.”

“Perhaps he heard about Chris’s death and wishes to turn Gavin in to face justice,” Connor speculated.

“Yeah right. Don’t be naive, Connor. They probably just wanna rub it in our faces.” Hank grabbed a pen and played with it as he leaned back in his chair. "I don't like this one bit."

“Could it hurt to see what he wants?” Connor asked. “I will admit I am somewhat curious as to Nines' intentions.”

“You mean, now he’s deviant? I guess it couldn’t hurt to find out. I’ll set up a meetin’, I guess. Nines thinks he can fix this with sorry, though, he’s got another thing coming.”

***

Connor glanced around as they entered the diner that Nines had suggested as a meeting place. The place had a 1980s theme to it, and a brief smile crossed Hank’s face as he looked at the posters on the walls.

“Fuck, this came out the year I was born,” Hank said, pointing to a poster for a movie called Back To The Future. “So many great movies from that era.” He sat down in the booth opposite Nines, who was receiving a glare from a waitress as he sat at the table with nothing in front of him. Connor slid in beside Hank and a waitress swooped over with a menu, which she placed in front of Hank while pointedly ignoring the two androids.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coffee for me, please, honey,” Hank said. “And err, I’ll take three eggs over easy on white bread, with a side of hash browns.”

Connor eyed Hank, pondering whether he should say something about his cholesterol level, but figuring Hank’s diet was the least of their problems, he left it alone.

“So what d’ya want, Nines?" Hank asked. "If you dragged us all the way out here to say sorry, save it. Chris is dead and there ain’t nothin’ you can do to make up for it. I had to go to his funeral and look his wife in the eye, wishin' the whole time I'd decided to take you and Gavin in that night."

“I’m here because Gavin needs to answer for his crimes,” Nines stated. “I want to help you catch him.”

“Oh, you had a fallin’ out, huh? So what, now you’re just gonna flip and hand him over to the DPD as some kinda absolution? So much for loyalty.” Hank stared out of the window.

“We have not ended our relationship,” Nines said. He looked at Connor with cold blue eyes, clearly assessing his predecessor. “Gavin has embarked on a journey of self-destruction that will inevitably end in his death. Prison is the only way I can save him from himself.”

That got Hank's attention and he looked directly at Nines. “Okay, yer losin’ me here. You wanna send Gavin to jail to save him?"

“Gavin wishes to die, and will soon get his wish in the worst way possible unless you help me. He’s embarked on a crime spree in order to obtain cash. Now he wants to rob a bank—though I suspect his only motive is suicide via the DPD.”

“That liquor store robbery—that was you?” Connor asked. "There were signs of android involvement, but I never suspected—"

“Yes. Gavin was emboldened by his success and wishes to continue."

“So let us know where he is and we’ll bring him in for the robbery, the bombings, Chris's murder—all of it. We've got enough evidence to put him away for the rest of his life. I’ll be all too happy to see him go down for what he did to Chris." Hank drummed his fingers on the table to a song Connor's database identified as Thriller, by Michael Jackson, and Connor added it to his database of things Hank liked.

“If you take him in for murder, he’ll be in prison for the rest of his life. I want to save him, not condemn him,” Nines stated. “I want to make a deal with you, Lieutenant Anderson. You set him up in a sting operation, and erase the other evidence against him. You ensure he gets a jail term of 5-10 years. He’ll learn his lesson, and you’ll get some degree of justice for Chris.”

“You want the DPD to spend money on a sting operation for that rat? You’re insane," Hank hissed. "No fuckin' deal."

“If you do not, Gavin will carry out his plan and humans will be harmed. The liquor store was just a sample of what he’s capable of. You don’t want that, Lieutenant Anderson. You have the opportunity to stop Gavin before he passes a point of no return.”

"He already has," Hank snapped. "A police officer with a wife and kid is dead because of that son of a bitch. I'm not interested in savin' his fucking soul. Tell him to go see a priest if you're that concerned for him." Hank stood up, but Connor eased him back down as his food arrived. Hank stuffed eggs into his mouth, taking out his anger on the yolks, an orange stain spreading across the plate like blood. Connor reached across and wiped egg yolk from Hank's beard with a napkin, and Hank waved him away.

Nines watched them with something that Connor could only interpret as patient frustration, his blue-grey eyes cold and impenetrable. Connor would have believed him to be a heartless robot if he hadn't sat here and essentially pleaded for Gavin's life. For some reason, he cared about Gavin Reed. Something about that moved Connor in a way he wasn't expecting, and he realized he wanted to make the deal, even if Hank did not.

“You of course would want to go free in exchange for your co-operation?” Connor asked.

“I want the evidence from the terrorist case linking Reed and I to the bombings gone. In exchange, Gavin does jail time. That is my deal. Take it or leave it.” Nines transmitted his number to Connor wirelessly. “You’ve got a day to decide before Gavin gets antsy. Call me when you’ve made a decision.” Nines stood up and stride to the exit. The waitress watched him go as she brought Hank a coffee refill. Hank waved her off and asked for the check.

They paid the bill and headed out into the lot. 

“I think we should take the deal,” Connor said. "We can't take back the past, but if there's a chance we can rehabilitate Gavin, shouldn't we take it?"

“Like hell we’re gonna.” Hank stalked ahead, getting into the driver’s seat and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel waiting for Connor, who walked at a normal pace. He waited for Connor to sit down in the passenger seat before continuing. “Why should we hide evidence for a fucking killer? He murdered Chris. He stuffed you full of C4. Reed deserves to go away for life. I'm not gonna go soft on him because we worked together. He was a bully then, and he's a bully now.”

“Nines cares about him," Connor said. "His feelings seemed genuine. Perhaps there is a side to Gavin that we haven't considered. Besides, if he robs a bank, civilians will get hurt. Don't we have a responsibility to stop that from happening?”

“Let Gavin get himself killed by the DPD. It’s what he fuckin’ deserves. Nines too, if he chooses to go along with it. I'm not gonna have sympathy for him just because he looks like you." Hank sulked, playing with the hula girl on the dash.

“Humans have the capacity to change their hateful ways,” Connor argued. “I want to give Gavin a chance to redeem himself, Hank. Despite what he's done, I… I don't want him to die.” Maybe it was because he was facing death himself, but the thought of Gavin destroying himself didn't give him any satisfaction. Something about the way Nines had fought for Gavin moved him. He’d wanted to save him from himself. What was that, if not love? A different kind of love from the one he and Hank shared, perhaps, but love all the same.

“I’ll think about it,” Hank said, and Connor knew he’d won.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
